. That added to his puzzle. It is not the woman who speaks there. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. Womanhood is sacred to me. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. ‘I know that, miss. You’ll never even see me again, for that 268 matter.
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